


Someone Like You

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Hot Chelle Rae
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nash throws the phone across the room.  Scrubbing his hands over his face, he takes off out of the back lounge and grabs some clothes.  Shoving his arms through the sleeves of his hoodie, Nash ducks his head through the neck and sits down tying his shoes.</p>
<p>“Nash, you okay?”</p>
<p>“Not now, Rk.  Not now.”</p>
<p>“What’s going on?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.”</p>
<p>“Nash.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Like You

Nash throws the phone across the room. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he takes off out of the back lounge and grabs some clothes. Shoving his arms through the sleeves of his hoodie, Nash ducks his head through the neck and sits down tying his shoes.

“Nash, you okay?”

“Not now, Rk. Not now.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nash.”

He can feel Ryan’s hand on his shoulder and shrugs it off, standing up. Nash strides towards the front of the bus and flips the lever, opening the door. Walking out into the night, he can feel tears in his eyes that have nothing to do with the cold night air.

“OVERSTREET.”

Jason can make it over and make them understand, but right now he needs to run and get the fuck outta there before he crawls out of his own skin. It’s all under there right now, under his skin, feeling like it’s going to explode out of him if he doesn’t move. So, one foot in front of other, his feet hit the pavement, and Springsteen is wailing away in his ears blocking out everything.

If there is one thing he doesn’t get it is that his dreams are coming true - all the music they’re making and the people listening now - but he just got his heart fucking stomped on from (some chick) for the very same thing. Something has to give. 

He runs hard until the air in his lungs burns and his thighs are on fire. Stopping at the corner of No and Where, he leans over, putting his hands on his knees. Sucking air, Nash wipes off his cheeks and curses under his breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

No one here cares. Seeing a bum sitting by the corner with a bottle of who knows what wrapped in brown paper, Nash fishes a twenty out of his jogging pants and gives it to him. He can use all the good fucking karma he can get. 

When he gets back to the bus, he finds Jason and gets the look. 

“Sorry, man, I just -”

“I know. We heard.”

“Fuck.” Nash scrubs his hands over his face and looks down at Jason. “Sorry.”

Jason holds up a fist and Nash bumps it. 

“Go find, Ryan. He’s playing mamma hen and he’s worried.”

“Oh fuck. Alright.”

Ian stops him halfway through the bus with a hand on the shoulder. “Sorry, dude. We kinda overheard.”

“Yeah.”

“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find her.”

“We don’t all find Maggie’s our first time out, man.”

Ian’s grin is wide and he claps Nash on the shoulder. “Still sucks though. It’ll pass.”

“I know. Thanks.”

Nash taps his hands against Eee’s forearm and pauses for a second before finding his way back to Ryan, who’s laying in his bunk. When he sees Nash, Ryan pulls the headphones off his head. 

“What’re you listening to?”

“Adele,” Ryan mumbles.

“I’m the one who got dumped, not you. We only listen to Adele when we get our hearts broke. It’s the HCR rule.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was feeling bad for you.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Nash pulls at Ryan’s duvet, working it over in his hands. “Sorry, Rk,” he says, softly.

“You can always talk about it, you know?” Ryan leans over on his elbow, and Nash peeks up at him. 

“Dude. She broke my heart. End of story. Not much else to say.”

Ryan pulls the headphones plug out of his ipod and puts in the earbuds and Nash watches as Ryan leans back against the pillow holding out the right earbud. “We can sit here and be sad fucks on a Saturday night and listen to depressing music.”

“Lemme shower and then it’s a date.”

Nash starts to walk off and then stops, thinking. Turning back around, he pats the bed. Ryan looks up, pulling the earbuds out again. 

“Thanks, Rk.”

The answering grin from Ryan is all he needs to feel just a bit fucking better. 

Stripping down, Nash catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look any different than he did two hours but he feels different. Inside, he’s still that awkward ninth grader who just knows how to play the guitar. Turning the shower on to scalding, he steps in and turns his face into the spray. 

Yeah, maybe that’ll wash it away. 

He can hear her in his mind, the things she said and he knows he hasn’t been there in the way a good boyfriend should be but he’s in the middle of living his dreams and it sure as fuck doesn’t mean he wants to do it alone. Being alone sucks. 

He knows how he looks, how he sounds sometimes, but he really liked her. It’s not always about getting horizontal and sweaty - it’s awesome but it’s not everything. 

They’d shared stuff. You do that with people you’re falling for and he was starting down that slope of the hill with her. She was smart and funny. She loved music and books and was just as much fun to talk to out of bed as she was in it. 

And she looked at him kinda like he hung the moon.

And fuck, he was going to miss her. 

He flips the shower off and braces his hands against the tiles for a minute, just grieving. The tears clog up the back of his throat and he lets one sob go before turning his face into his arm. The tears run down his face, onto his arm, and then down the drain. 

He sniffs once, wiping at his face and then whips his hair back. He buries his face in the soft towels they’d pilfered from some Hilton in the middle of fucking nowhere and scrubs hard trying to remove any evidence of … whatever that was. 

Nash pulls on sweats and throws on a stocking cap because Ryan isn’t going to give a fuck what he looks like and everyone on the bus knows what a break up suit looks like. He flips the lights off and walks out of the steam-filled bathroom, barefooted. 

Ryan’s still on the bunk and looks over when Nash crawls up and in. When Ryan hands over the left earbud, Nash takes it, putting it in his ear. It’s Adele, still. And he smiles, softly. 

“C’mere, fucker,” Nash says and burrows his arm under Ryan, pulling. 

“Fine, fine. But if you get a boner, Imma roll over and punch you.”

“The day I get a boner over your skinny ass, I’ll buy you a whole bottle of that girly fucking scotch you like.”

“Deal. ‘Cause I am irresistible.”

“You’re also missing a set of tits.”

“I’d do a lot for you, Overstreet, but growing tits isn’t one of those things.”

“Some friend you are, RK.”

“I’m canoodling with you on a Saturday night listening to Adele. I think my best friend status is firmly intact.”

“Good word, canoodling.”

Jamie walks by and throws a blanket over them, patting Nash’s back, and closes the curtains to Ryan’s bunk. Nash leans his forehead against Ryan’s back and listens to Adele’s version of Lovesong and breathes. It’s amazing how fucking hard it is to breathe when it feels like your heart is in a vise, he thinks. 

“You okay?” Ryan whispers.

“Not right this second.”

“It’ll be okay -”

“- just not right now,” Nash finishes. 

Ryan grabs Nash’s hand and squeezes tight. Nash squeezes back and then lets his hand lay slack against the blanket. He can feel Ryan humming, reverberating through his chest and back into Nash’s ribcage, to his heart and he closes his eyes.

“Just don’t go crazy, okay? She’s not worth it.”

“I won’t.”

Nash chuckles quietly when Ryan looks over his shoulder back at Nash. Pushing on the side of Ryan’s face, Nash laughs louder this time. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be good.”

“Just don’t go off the fucking deep end. We need you, too.”

“I won’t, fucker.”

“Okay.”

“Can you guys quit kissing now and go to sleep? I been listening to this make out fest for ten minutes and I’m tired,” Jamie hollers from across the aisle. Nash can hear Ian laugh, too, and he thinks he’s pretty fucking lucky to have found these guys.

“Sorry!” Nash hollers back. “Ryan was trying to comfort me with his body again.”

“Oh my god, I was not,” Ryan exclaims. 

“Well just do it quieter, Rk, sheesh,” Jamie answers. “Speaking of not quiet, you remember when you used to sneak what’s her ass into the house and mom swore up and down one of the cats was in heat because she thought she heard it - and I quote - yowling in the middle of the night? Yeah, try not to be a yowler, Ryno.”

Nash busts out laughing as Ryan groans and hides his face in the pillow.

“I’m going to kill him,” Ryan mumbles. 

“Tell me more about the yowler, Follese’.”

“No. Shut up. Go to sleep, assfuck.”

***

It’s two months later and they’re back home, back in the studio, recording and writing. Nash has promised Adam a man date as soon as they see the light of day but there’s been no hours and Nash finally breaks down and agrees to lunch. 

He’s on his way down the sidewalk, adjusting his shades, when he spies her out of the corner of his eye. Walking his way, dragging her feet almost, Nash walks towards her. 

They talk, it’s mostly small talk of how’ve you been and that sorta shit that Nash sucks at but Ryan always walks through swimmingly and for once he wishes Ryan and his incessant chatter were here to break up the fucking awkward. 

“How’s things with the guys? The band, I mean,” she asks.

“Great. We’re actually recording right now.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she replies, looking down at her watch. “Well, I should go. It’s been great seeing you.”

“Yeah, we should have a drink sometime.” It’s out of his mouth before he can take it back and he could punch himself, but it’s out there now. “Just for old times sake.”

Mentally, he groans. It’s the oldest line in the book for let me take you out and get you drunk because I’m horny and we used to do that but we don’t anymore. 

“Nash, um, I can’t.”

“No problem. Just offering.”

“Yeah, well I’m seeing someone actually. We’re engaged,” she says, waggling her finger with a killer amount of karats on it and Nash just stares. 

“That was quick.”

“Um, yeah.”

And then it hits him. She’d probably been dating them both at the same time. 

Just then, someone down the sidewalk hollers her name and they both turn. And there he is, that guy. In a fucking suit and matching shoes and jesus, is that a fucking briefcase, too?

Introductions are made all around and Nash just nods when ‘Craig’ extends his hand because he may be cool but he’s not cool enough to shake the hand of the guy who was banging his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, he corrects. 

“Craig, I need to talk to Nash for a second. I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

Nash nods his head at Craig again and they both watch him walk across the street. 

“Dating you was fun, Nash. But we both know that you’re not the settling down type. It’s just not in the cards for you.”

He grins wryly and pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose. “Guess you’ll never know. Good seein’ you.”

And with that, he walks down the sidewalk. Away. 

It’s ten o’clock and he’s lying on Adam’s couch looking at the world through a bottle of jack and can vaguely hear Adam talking to someone. Blinking his eyes open, he sees Ryan standing at the foot of the couch. 

“Hey, it’s Ryyyyyyan,” Nash says. 

“Hey, Nashie. How’re you feelin’?”

“Drunk. Tired. Drunk and Tired.” Ryan moves around from the foot of the couch and kneels by Nash’s head. It all happens so fast, Nash has to squeeze his eyes shut and then open them, carefully. “There you are. It’s like you can apparate, RK.”

“What happened today? Adam told me a little bit.”

“Where is Adam?” Nash asks, looking around the apartment.

“He went to take a shower. You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Um, no not really wanting to talk about it.” Nash shakes his head and the room blurs into yellows and blacks. And then Ryan’s hands are on his cheeks, steadying his head. 

“It’s fine. You don’t have to talk about it right now. But, I either need to take you home or you can crash here with Adam.”

“He’s a bed hog and it takes him forever to get ready for bed. Seriously, Ryno, he has a ‘beauty regimen.’ It’s not natural.”

“Okay, you wanna go home? I can take you there.”

“I don’t know. Don’t really wanna be alone right now.”

“You’re coming home with me then. Let me tell Adam and we’ll get you outta here.”

It’s thirty minutes and one cab ride later, when they walk up the steps to RK’s apartment. It’s quiet and dark when Ryan opens the door and pushes Nash against the wall. 

“Stay here and hold that wall up.”

Nash flattens his palms against the wall and laughs. It’s a running joke when one of them is drunk or when they’re both drunk and it’s still funny even after all this time. Nash tilts his head to the side and watches Ryan walk around the room turning on a lamp and then another. Shucking his coat, he hangs it over the back of a chair and waves Nash over. 

“Come on, fucker. Let’s get you cleaned up and in a bed.”

“Where’s Jamie?” Nash asks, tripping over the ottoman and catching himself. 

“He’s at Jake Jordan’s. They’re having a HP Marathon. It’s like he’s still twelve and obsessed with magic.”

“Cho Chang,” Nash replies.

“What?” Ryan stops from walking Nash to the bathroom. 

“He digs Cho Chang.”

“Seriously?” Ryan smiles and Nash nods in return. “I had no idea.”

“You had no idea that Cho Chang was hot or that Jamie thought she was hot?”

They’re in the bathroom and Ryan’s sitting on the toilet with the lid down. Nash gives him the turn around gesture with his finger and Ryan rolls his eyes. 

“Both, I guess. Figured I should’ve known that.”

“Yeah, well,” Nash says, pulling his shirt over his head and hitting Ryan with it. “You can’t be everywhere all the time, Ryno.”

“Shut up, assface.” 

Unbuckling his pants, Nash watches as Ryan leans over and switches on the shower letting the water get warm. When Ryan gives the okay, Nash crawls in and lets the spray hit him in the face first, sobering slightly. 

“So what happened?”

“Go find me some clothes and I’ll tell you later.”

“Fine,” Ryan replies. 

Nash showers quickly if not the most accurately and when he drops the shampoo for the sixth time he says fuck it and rinses off. Stepping out, he sees a pair of Jamie’s sweats and pulls them on after toweling off quickly. The cool night air of the apartment sobers him up a bit more and his legs are a little steadier as he walks out of the bathroom. 

Adele’s singing again as he goes into the living room. Nash sets his clothes on the arm of hte couch and walks into the kitchen to see Ryan working in the kitchen. When Ryan looks over his shoulder, Nash nods. Ryan points to a tumbler full of something and Nash goes over, hops up on the counter. Giving the contents of the glass a sniff, he takes a sip and recognizes Jack and ginger. 

“Can’t believe you’re giving me more booze.”

“I’m making you food, too,” Ryan answers. “But I thought maybe you’d actually fucking talk if you had more alcohol.”

“It could backfire. I mean, I could puke and then you’d be without info and I’d be sick. You’d feel even worse, RK.”

“Shut up and drink,” Ryan says, pointing a butter knife at Nash. 

Nash raises his hands in reply and picks up the tumblr again, sipping. Waiting, he watches as Ryan spreads the butter, then peanut butter, and finally strawberry jelly. His hands, RK’s hands, just as deft as when he has a guitar in them or not, are cutting the sandwich into quarters and Nash laughs.

“You call Julie? She cuts sammies like that, too.”

“Fuck off, Overstreet. I’ve had enough morning afters at your house to know this. Plus, your mom makes the best sammies ever.”

“Why do I feel like that was a ‘your momma’ thing?”

Ryan looks up and winks. “You’ll never know.”

“Ugh, man, no hitting on my mom.”

“I’d never do that. Well, not on purpose. There was that one time, um, yeah never mind.”

Ryan laughs and Nash leans over hitting Ryan squarely in the shoulder. 

“You’re as bad as Jamie. If I hear one more time about hot Skye is, I might have to kick his ass.”

“She is. Your sisters and momma are -”

“ - skating on thin ice, Follese’.”

Ryan laughs again and Nash smiles in return. He loves their banter and short-hand discussions that are just part of being around someone forever. It’s comforting. And Nash wraps his arms around himself, lightly kicking his heels against the cupboards below. 

“What happened?”

Nash groans and covers his face with his hands. “For fuck’s sakes, Ryno, are you gonna let it go?”

“Nope. You need to talk about your manpain, fucker. And I’m rescuing your ass again on a Saturday night. You owe me.”

“Isn’t there some booty you should be calling so I can eat this sandwich and go sleep it off?”

“Nope,” Ryan replies, grinning. 

“You’re loving this a little too much.”

Ryan turns around and starts picking up the mess he made and shakes his head. “No, not really, Nashie. It sucks. Break-ups suck. But, it’s life.”

Nash doesn’t say anything as Ryan washes up the dishes in the sink and moves around the kitchen putting things away. And then he’s standing in front of Nash, gesturing with a knife.

“I need to put this away.”

“Well then put it away.”

“You’re kinda in the way.”

Nash leans out of the way and looks down at the top of Ry’s head and the line of his neck, wondering. His mind tries to play catch up to where that thought came from and he straightens up, clearing his throat. He’s been friends with Adam long enough and been to more gay bars than he’d ever care to count, but never once has something like that quick sizzle of lust down his spine happened in the middle of any where with a guy. 

And this wasn’t just a guy. It was RK, Ryno, his writing partner, his best friend. Plus, he’s looking at life through Jack and he’s lonely as fuck. Yeah, that’s probably it, he thinks. Plus, Ryan loves him. He knows that deep down, bone deep, and he’d never do anything to fuck that up. Ever. 

They walk into the living room and Ryan sets the plates on the low coffee table. Nash flops onto the couch, closing his eyes, and rests his head on the arm. He can feel Ryan sit down at the other end, picking up his feet, and putting them in his lap. 

“Alright, fucker, talk.”

Sighing, Nash leaves his eyes closed. “I ran into her outside of the studio.”

“She look good? Or was it one of those things where she was wearing sweats and you think thank fuck she looks like shit right now?”

Nash laughs and looks up and over at Ryan. “You’re getting off on this, I swear. You gonna write a song about my manpain, RK?”

“No,” Ryan replies, expression softening from his normally wide grin to something this side of wistful. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not? That’s what we use this shit for. Everything goes into our music, right?” Nash questions, tapping his toe against Ryan’s chest. “Right?”

“Not this time, Nash.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re actually hurt this time.”

And there it is again. Ry’s ability to cut through every bit of Nash’s bullshit and find that thorn in his paw. Ryan never lets Nash settle for something less and never lets him get away with practically anything when it matters. He closes his eyes again, crossing one leg over the other, and feels Ryan’s hands resting on his legs. 

“She said I’d never settle down.”

“She is?”

“Yeah, she’s getting married. Actually got to meet the fucker. He was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase.”

“What kind of suit?”

Nash laughs and looks up at Ryan. “Seriously, RK, I didn’t notice if he was wearing Armani. God, you’re obsessed with clothes.”

“Just suits. Sorry, back to your manpain,” Ryan replies, tapping his thumbs on Nash’s legs. 

Nash closes his eyes again because it’s easier to talk this way without seeing Ryan’s face because for all Ryan talks, he says way more with his face and Nash can’t bear to see the pity there. 

“I think they were fucking around while we were supposed to be dating.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, she’s sporting a huge rock and I was standing in the middle of that sidewalk and all I could think was …”

“Say it. You’ll feel better after you say it.” Ryan’s hands are lying still now, just cupping his shins, and Nash breathes through it. 

“I thought I was kind of in love with her,” Nash whispers. “Or getting there. Falling.”

“There it is, Nashie,” Ryan whispers back. “There it is.”

Nash just nods because he knows Ryan is looking at him and he can’t talk right now. He feels more than sees Ryan pulling on his hands, his arms and up into a hug. It’s awkward as fuck sitting that way, but Nash leans his forehead against Ryan’s neck and breathes through it. 

“God, we’re girls,” Nash says.

“Adam would be proud of us.”

“He would.”

Then Ryan yawns so hard his jaw pops and Nash laughs, softly. The day and the heartache are catching up with Nash, too, but he doesn’t really want to move. Not yet. He feels safe here. 

“We should get some sleep.”

“Yup,” Nash replies, not moving. 

“Nashvegas, we need to move.”

“Alright,” he says, leaning back.

They’re just sitting there in the middle of the half-dark apartment staring for a second or longer and Ryan breaks the moment when he stands up. “Sleep. We need sleep, obviously.”

“Okay, I'll crash out here. Find me a blanket.”

“Mmmm’kay. Be right back.”

He watches as Ryan pads out of the room on bare feet. It’s a few short minutes later when Ryan walks back with a pillow and blanket. Nash leans his head up as Ryan tucks the pillow under and then lays the blanket over top of his body, tucking in at his feet. 

“Nashvegas,” Ryan whispers. 

Nash opens his eyes and Ryan’s crouched down by his head. And then Ryan’s pushing his hair off of his forehead with this stupid fond look on his face. 

“Go to bed, Rk.”

“It’s going to be okay. She isn’t going to be the last person you love.”

Nash grabs Ryan’s wrist, moving it away from his head because he can’t stand someone - anyone - being too nice right now.

“Quit watching Someone Like You. And I don’t love Ray.”

“Shut up.” Ryan’s breath hitches and he leans over and kisses Nash’s forehead. And Nash clutches, his heart ramping up at the touch, and closes his eyes.

“Go to bed, Rk, seriously.”

“I am. Sweet dreams.”

And then it’s dark and Nash lays awake half of the night thinking about what that was. Somewhere this side of dawn, he decides to just let it be what it was - is, was, whatever - and finally sleeps. He doesn’t dream of her but of Ryan playing guitar and laughing. It warms him from the inside out and he turns over, burying his face in his pillow, and smiles. It’s a good dream. 

***

They’re on tour, on the road and everything is on, just fucking on every night. Nash feels like he’s back on top of the world and on the road to recovery or whatever. Jason’s got The Black Crowes cranked at the front of the bus as Nash gets out of the shower. Humming along, he walks through the lounge snagging a bottle of water and then out into the main area. Ian’s on his laptop, probably tweeting, and Jamie’s next to him. 

Sliding in next to Jamie, Nash peeks over his shoulder seeing what he’s doing.

“Quit tweeting my sister, fucker.” Nash leans back and mock punches Jamie, who deftly avoids the punch, knocking into Ian.

“Hey, quit it. Editing a picture over here.”

“Sorry, Eman,” Jamie says and then glares at Nash. 

“Where’s Rk?”

Jamie points out the door and Nash walks to the opposite bench and looks out the window. Ryan is standing outside of the bus on his phone, walking back and forth, talking animatedly with one free hand, the other cupping the phone to his face. 

“Who’s he talking to?”

“No idea,” Jamie replies, quickly. Too quickly for Nash’s liking and being able to spot a lie at twenty paces, Nash goes back over to Jamie. 

“Who’s he talking to?” Nash asks, elbowing Jamie lightly in the ribs.

“Not sure.”

“Jamie, seriously. Is it a girl?”

Ian leans around Jamie, holding his laptop carefully. “I think it’s Chord.”

Puzzled, Nash stands up and goes to get his shoes. He bounds down the steps and closes the door behind him to the beginning guitar riffs of She Talks to Angels. Ryan doesn’t see him yet, and Nash leans against the bus, just watching and hearing this end of the conversation.

“I don’t know, Chord. Yeah, he’s okay. He seems better anyway.”

Yup, definitely talking to Chordy, Nash thinks. And they’re talking about him. Trying to decide if he’s more pissed off or relieved, Nash just listens.

And then Ryan leans his forehead against the bus, eyes closed, and whispers into the phone and Nash almost misses what he says but he catches it. “I just don’t know how much longer I can do this, Chord.”

Yup, pissed, Nash thinks and walks over to Ryan. “Hang up.”

Ryan looks like a deer caught in the headlights with the phone still up to his face. Nash can hear Chordy on the other end talking a mile a minute. “Chord wants to talk to you.”

“Not really in the mood right now.”

And then he can hear Chord practically yelling in the phone. Nash does the gimme gesture and Ryan hands over the phone.

“Yeah,” Nash says. He’s looking at Ryan, never taking his eyes off of Ryan’s face. 

“Nash, I know you and I know you’re smoking pissed right now but just remember you only got to hear half of this conversation. Cool down and talk to RK.”

“Not sure I’m interested right now.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and turns his back to Nash, then leans on the bus with his arms crossed. 

“You should be. You need to be. Nash, seriously, grow up. This is me and I know you.”

Nash turns from Ryan and walks about ten feet away and sighs. “What the fuck were you two talking about?”

“You, shithead.”

“Yeah, but, why?”

“God, it’s like you’re simple or something.”

“Stop sounding like Julie, Chord and tell me what the fuck you two were talking about me for.”

Nash can hear Chord sigh deeply and he knows he’s trying his brother’s patience but he’s a lot confused. 

“I can’t tell you everything but you need to talk to Ryan, bro. Seriously. Go into the lounge, lock the door, and talk to him.”

“About. What?”

“About what’s going on with you two. You’re not stupid, Nash, and you know what I’m talking about.”

Nash turns around, looking over at Ryan who’s still leaning against the bus, waiting. The fight goes out of him when he sees the look on Ryan’s face and his shoulders sag. “Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Just keep your cool and just listen.”

“I promise,” Nash tells Chordy and then hangs up. 

“Nash,” Ryan begins when Nash gets close enough to hear him and Nash holds up a hand.

“Inside,” Nash says, knocking on the bus door. The Black Crowes have faded out and now Bruno is playing as they make their way through the bus, single file. Ian looks up and Nash shakes his head. They walk into the lounge and Nash closes and locks the door behind them.

“Okay, talk.”

“Can we sit at least?”

They’ve fought about a million things over the years and some of them have been epic shouting matches but none of them have felt so make or break like right now and Nash’s heart is thundering and he can barely hear over it. Nodding, he sits down, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I’m sitting. Go ahead.”

“Not really sure where to start,” Ryan says.

“You could tell me why you were talking to Chord and work your way backwards from there.”

Listen to him, Nash hears Chord say in the back of his mind, watch him. Really look, shithead. Nash slows his breathing down and looks over at Ryan. He’s sitting on the bench seat, bent over worrying his hands over and over again in his lap. He’s scared, Nash thinks. 

“RK, it’s me,” Nash says. “You can talk to me about anything.”

“That’s funny. I was going to say the same thing to you,” Ryan replies. “What’s going on with us, Nash?”

“What do you mean?” Ryan raises up his left eyebrow and Nash leans back against the booth seat. “I don’t know.”

“Fine, just fine,” Ryan says, getting up out of his seat and walking towards the door. Nash grabs, without thinking, at Ryan’s hand, pulling him back. 

“Don’t walk out. Just don’t.” 

Ryan looks down at their hands, sighs, and walks backwards to his seat. “Then talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“How ‘bout this then? That’s the first time you’ve touched me off stage in two months.”

“What?” Nash snaps his head up, looking at Ryan again. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Ryan whispers. “I kinda feel like I’ve done something to piss you off, I just don’t know what it is.”

“I’m not pissed at you, Ryno.”

“What is it then? Whatever it is, I wanna make it right.”

“I don’t think you can.” This time, now, it’s Nash leaning over with his face in his hands, talking through his fingers. 

“I can,” Ryan says, his voice closer, whispering. “I would, I will.”

Nash shakes his head, back and forth, in his hands. 

“Fine, if you won’t say it, I will. I told Chord that you haven’t touched me off stage since that night at my apartment. That you haven’t been the same since that day and I don’t know what I did to upset you but I wanted to make it right and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on like this with us.”

Nash looks up and Ryan’s crouched down in front of him, hands braced on either side of Nash’s legs. 

“What else?”

“That there was something going on with me and his brother and I was, am, confused as fuck about it. And it’s kinda eating me up.”

“What did Chordy say?”

“He said -” Ryan stops, inhaling deeply and running his hand back through his hair. “He said to talk to you.”

“Ryan, I gotta a lot of crazy shit going on in my head about you right now.”

Ryan’s looking, just staring, and nods for Nash to continue. “Like what?”

“If I say it, it’s out there, Rk. There’s no taking it back.”

“Say it anyway.” Ryan rocks forward, resting his knees on the floor, even closer than before. 

Van Morrison’s voice slides in under the door, and Nash listens to Crazy Love for a second before reaching his hand out, touching Ryan’s cheek. His eyes focus on Ryan’s lips a minute before looking up into Ryan’s eyes to see if he’s crossed a line yet. “I’ve been thinking about this, doing this, with you,” Nash whispers. 

Then, Ryan’s hands are on his forearms, gripping tightly. Ryan begins to lean in as Nash does and their lips brush. Nash feels that quick sizzle of lust that was there the night in Ryan’s apartment and he pushes forward further, gripping the back of Ryan’s neck. He turns, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening as Ryan opens up, and Nash scoots forward. Ryan’s chest is trapped between his legs and Nash takes his feet, wrapping them around, pushing his heels against the small of Ryan’s back. Ryan’s hands, pulling on his waist, closer still even more and everything is centered on Ryan’s mouth and Ryan’s hands until Nash almost falls on top of Ryan as he lands on his back on the floor. Nash has his hands braced on either side of Ryan’s head, breathing heavily, looking down at Ryan. 

“Nash,” Ryan breathes out. 

“Yeah?”

“Not really wanting to do this on the floor. God knows what’s been spilled on it.”

Nash huffs out a laugh and bends down kissing Ryan again because he wants to. They’re really getting into it again, when Ryan turns his head. “Come on, Nash, seriously. It’s gross on the floor.”

“Fine, fine.” Nash leans back up, pulling Ryan with him. And then Ryan grabs the door handle to walk back out into the bus when Nash pulls back on Ryan’s belt loops, kissing his neck. 

“Naaaaaash, seriously not fair.”

“Not trying to be fair.”

“Stop it then. I’m trying to walk out of this room with a little bit of dignity.”

“Not really looking for dignity either.”

“Come on, Nash, hands off for ten seconds so I can make it to my bunk.”

“Not alone, you’re not,” Nash says. Ryan looks over his shoulder at him and grins wide. 

“Of course not.”

They sneak out the door and scramble up into Ryan’s bunk, shushing each other, and it does remind Nash of being sixteen and trying to get away with something. But, when he’s got his arms around Ryan and their foreheads are leaning together, it’s nothing in the whole wide world like he’s felt before. It’s amazing. 

“No yowling, fuckers,” Jamie says as he passes by Ryan’s bunk and Nash has to bury his face in Ryan’s neck to keep from busting out laughing. 

And then, it’s Ryan’s hands under his shirt, running his fingers up and down, and more kisses yet. When the clock reads somewhere this side of two a.m. Nash takes Ryan’s head and tucks it into his shoulder. 

“Sleep, we need sleep,” Nash yawns. 

Ryan doesn’t say anything but makes a sleep happy noise and burrows into Nash’s side and Nash smiles, kissing the top of Ryan’s head. 

“Sweet dreams.”


End file.
